This mortal skin
It all started with a speck of dirt on the floor. No matter how much Nephrite swore, cursed, threatened, and glared at it, the damned spot would not go away.
"Try wiping it with a rag, or mopping it with your mop," Motoki suggested, in a tone that suggested worse than condescension - for it was full of kindness.
Nephrite turned his glare at the man. ( Read more... )
"Try wiping it with a rag, or mopping it with your mop," Motoki suggested, in a tone that suggested worse than condescension - for it was full of kindness.
Nephrite turned his glare at the man. ( Read more... )
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Ah, hell, Nephrite thinks, glaring at the man. For a tiny second he revels in the fact that he is finally free of the human; only to have the human follow him to hell, which this place definitely is.
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Ah, hell.
"STOP CALLING ME NEPHENIE! I'M NEPHRITE YOU IDIOT! NEEEEEPPPPPHHHHRRRRIIIIITTTTEEEE!!!!"
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Then he turns around and walks away, intending on putting as much distance between them as possible.
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The he notices a strange sound around them.
He clamps his hands to his ears.
"STOP SINGING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
[ Same here - I love you too!!! Your Motoki is just pure awesome.]
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"Sing, then," he asks. "But no holding hands. I MEAN IT!"
It's the closest thing to a truce that Nephrite is willing to give.
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And by lead, he means WALK AT LEAST FIFTY FEET IN FRONT OF ME, HUMAN.
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